Win or Lose
by 9-A.R-9
Summary: REWRITTEN! Nick is the youngest of the gang; when something strikes his family hard, it affects him the most. There are two ways this could go, and the family has to fight for the decision they don't get to choose.
1. Chapter 1

**RE-WRITTEN**

**Okay, I am re-writing these first chapters becasue I feel they're not as good as the last few. Please read and review telling me if I did better, worse, same, etc. I really hate to ruin the whole day that they died thing, but whatever. It wouldn't work with the book. Ponyboy claims in the book that he's 'been fourteen for a month' so yeah. Let's see how this goes. Oh, and I'm trying to make the chapters longer, because I know you love long chapters and all, but I'm better at short chapters. I don't know why. Don't ask me why. **

**I just noticed that I always imagined The Outsiders taking place in October, and it's February. Eight months. Think about it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders.**

I was walking home from school. I didn't have much homework because tomorrow was the school dance. I didn't have anyone to go with as far as dates go, but my brothers and gang were coming with me. I have three brothers.

Ponyboy is my twin brother, and _yes_ that's his real name. He's _technically _older than me by a few minutes or whatever, but we're both thirteen years old; we'll be fourteen in exactly seven months. We look a lot alike, but little differences are key to seperate us. Our hair is a light red-brown, but mine is darker than his. Plus, Pony's sort of bleaches in the summer, making it lighter than in the winter. Most people can't tell, though. His eyes are a dark, forest green with specks of gray in them. He's jealous of my eyes; mine have a little more silver in them than his.

Sodapop is one of my other brothers. He's been sixteen for a few months now, and he's pretty good at making me jealous of driving. He'll walk down to the DX, the gas station where he and his best friend work, pick up Steve's old car, and drive off with the gang. Dad tried to teach him how to drive right, but Steve, his best friend, ended up taking over. Steve ain't my favorite person in the world. Soda has golden-brown hair that does the same thing as Pony's in the summer. The girls fawn over him and those huge, brown eyes. I don't get girls, but Soda says I'll grow into it. Yeah, right.

My last brother is Darrel Shaynne Curtis, Jr. He wins oldest brother at twenty years old. Darry really wants to go to college, and I doubt that he'll never make it. Even though he's a greaser, I'll explain later, he's really handsome and atheletic. Not as handsome as the movie-star looks Soda has, but still good. He's got dark brown hair like Dad's. In fact, most people thought the two were brothers instead of father and son. I don't blame them, but Darry's eyes are different than anybody else I know. They're a real mist-like color-all blue and gray and cold-but they're happiness in there. You can see it best when he's proud of something. When he's proud, wheather it's of me or anyone else, you can see this little glint in his eyes. It makes me feel good inside when I see the little spark.

Anyway, I was walking home-no homework, no date-but I did have to go back to school and help set up the gym. I got in a little trouble with a Soc at my school, but did _he _get in trouble? No. Why, you ask? Easy, 'cause I'm a greaser. Greasers are considered dirt. We're not, though. Just beacause a guy's poor doesn't make him dirt, but that's the big stereo-type around here. We wreck stuff and have gang fights and hold up gas stations, basically cause all sorts of trouble. I don't do that kind of stuff. Like I said, it's one big stereo-type.

Socs, though, Socs are mean. They're cruel and rich. Snobby and hate-filled. They have beer blasts and wreck houses and jump us greasers for fun. Speaking of which, I had a pretty big chance of getting jumped right now. Those darn Socs are everywhere. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, keeping my head up, and looked around. The road was clear. The alleys are clear. My paths clear, ahead of me. I started casually walking backwards. Nothing. Good. I turned back around and unstuffed my pockets.

I wasn't too far from the DX station. Sodapop could drive me back to school for the dance setup. I think he was going alone, too. Which wouldn't be a problem, or it might be. If you count girls walking up to him with a want 'bad'. I heard him and Steve messing around outside. Steve was running with Soda's hat in his hand. They were best friends; anyone can tell."Hey, Nick!" Soda called, stopping in his tracks. Steve ran up to him, panting hard.

"Hi, Soda, when are you gettin' off work?" I asked him. I actually got in trouble with that Soc today, so I didn't know I'd be held after school.

"Few minutes," Steve answered, "Why? We ain't goin' no where." He always had this thing with me. He thought I was stuck to Soda or something, but it wasn't my fault. Soda always invited me, well, when they weren't bringing girls.

"I know. That Soc that been botherin' me, me and him got in a fight. I have to help set up for tommorrow."

"Oh," Soda said. "Why didn't ya say so? I'll drop you off, but what are you gonna tell Mom and Dad?"

I hadn't thought about that. Maybe I should just tell them the truth. They usually understand. I decided that I was right. "I ain't gonna lie to 'em."

"Lie to who?" A voice asked. I turned around to face my twin brother, Ponyboy, and his best friend, Johnny Cade. I liked Johnny. Johnny's hair was a dark, inky black; his eyes were the same color. He was a nice kid, and he didn't deserved the kind of home life he got. His mom was always yelling at him, and his dad constantly beats him. I once tried imagining my parents doing it to me. I was horrified at the mental picture. Johnny was like a little lost bird. I found a lost bird on the side of the road once. It was black with small streaks of brown, white, gray, and, of course, red. I felt real bad for the bird. I thought of Johnny as that bird ever since.

"Mom 'n' Dad. That Soc gave me after-school set up for the dance." I said.

Johnny spoke up. "I saw that. I thought it was you, but I didn't know for sure. I kind of got the same deal from his friend." Johnny wasn't too loud-I think it was his parents that did it to him-but he was a good fighter. He could stick up for himself and play tough.

"Yeah, I can take ya'll. Ponyboy, you mind tellin' Mom?" Soda grabbed his keys and ran to the truck, me and Johnny following. Pony nodded and headed home with Steve.

"Hey, Nick," Johnny said once we were in the car, "This is your first detention, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered. It kind of bothered me. I mean, I've always gotten good grades. Why did this stupid Soc have to go and ruin it all? Maybe I'll never get into college. Maybe I shouldn't tell Mom and Dad-

"Have fun," Johnny said with a smile.

* * *

><p>When I got up in the morning I felt pumped. I was pumped about tonight, this was the first dance I've been to. I'm in the same school as Johnny and Soda becasue Ponyboy and I have moved up a grade. We're both pretty smart. We didn't move up until a few months ago, right after a dance was held. So now is the first one we've been to.<p>

I could tell Pony was ready, too. He and Johnny talked about it some. That's what Johnny said. He's been to one or two dances, and it, apparently, wasn't half bad. Soda, of course, lives for dances, but he also lives for drag races, rodeos, and a whole lot of other stuff. So when he blabbered on and on about how great it was, I didn't pay a lick of attention.

Soda, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, and I drove to school together. The truck wasn't really crowded, considering three of us rode in the back. Soda was driving, and Steve, ahem, "helping". The school day seemed to drag on forever and ever. Everyone was ready for tonight. I mean, everyone. The girls would squeak and squeal. The guys would calm them down somehow. I would roll my eyes, along with Johnny. Soda would laugh at us. That's pretty much how my day went.

Arriving home, might I add finally, Mom and Dad were getting ready to leave. Every Valentine's Day, they go out to eat. Our dog, Rocky, was squirming in Dad's arms.

"We're going to drop you boys off at the school when you're ready. Mrs. Matthews offered to watch Rocky for us while we were out." Mom said. I nodded. "Do you know where Darry is?"

"Uh," I looked around, my feet firmly planted where they were, "No,"

My mom chuckled lightly. Darry decided to come out from his room then. "There you are," Dad said, "Are you sure you'll be all right alone?"

"Yes sir, I'm sure." Darry walked off into the kitchen.

Soda got Johnny and me ready. I was wearing blue jeans and nice shirt; I had grease in my hair, that's for sure. Greasers have to keep their reap, even at a dance. Johnny and Ponyboy were both wearing something similar. Soda, though, got all prettied up. He was wearing nice clothes, and not too much grease was in his hair. Hmm. I wonder who's looking for trouble. A.K.A, _girls._

"You ready?" Dad hollered from the living room.

"Yeah," Soda yelled back. I swear, those two were the loudest people on Earth. Soda could be standing on one side of Earth and Dad on the other, and they could hear each other cleary. Very clearly. As could the rest of the world.

Dad whistled when he saw us. I laughed at Ponyboy, who was blusing a deep red. "C'mon!" I told him. "Lighten up,"

Rocky howled and barked and made all kinds of noise on the way there. We were all in the bed of the truck, though, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Steve and I. Soda was laughing at the dog. It was quite an event when we pulled up. Rocky howled. I mean, loudly. So loud he beats Soda in a yelling contest. Then a bus screeched at the bus stop that unloaded teenagers. Tons. And. Tons. Of. Teenagers. Which made Rocky mad, or whatever he was. Either way, he started howling even _louder._ By the time half of the people who got off the bus got there, everyone was holding their ears. Dang. Quite the event.

Mom waved good-bye to us. "I'll be here at eleven," she said. It was an hour later than usual, so I had to smile and tell them, "Thanks, see you."

Don't you hate it when you never know when it's the last time you hear someone's voice?

* * *

><p><strong>Note: The next chapter will be shorter. I'll probably get it up tomorrow. It'll be 3rd person point of view. I just hate it when people change point of views in the middle of a chapter. You know? No? Oh well. It makes sense to me.<strong>

**Oh. Another note: When you see 'RE-WRITTEN' at the top, well, it's re-written. When you see 'CONTINUED' at the top, that means nothing else is left to be re-written.**

**Please review; any types of reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**REWRITTEN**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders**

**Claimer: I own Nicholas.**

A young man around was sitting on the couch. His light, icy eyes searched for the clock as low sigh escaped his lips. _9:30. Where are they? _He thought. His parents had just left his brothers and their friends at the school. Today was Valentine's Day, and the boy's parents were out for dinner, or so he thought. _They're usually back by 8:30, I wonder what's taking them so long._

The low rumble of a car slowly slid into hearing. It was a dark night, and the color of the bright, red and blue lights could easily be seperated from the darkness. Two dark figures emerged from the car, one having greater authority than the other. The man with low authority spoke up, "It's been a long week." His voice was deep and thick, not at all like the other man's. "I suppose, but the detective's got quite some work to do tonight." Both men laughed lightly. They quickily gained their composure as one of them knocked on the door. They didn't like giving news like this, but sometimes it is what it amounts to.

The same young man from the scene answered the door. The policeman looked at him for a moment, studying everything about the him. "Darrel Curtis?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. This is he." The young man talked like him, too, with a more relieved hint, though, but the policemen didn't know that.

"You are Darrel Curtis?" The other policeman asked.

Darrel Curtis nodded. "Yes, sir. Darrel Jr."

The policemen almost sighed. Instead, they both nodded. It's hard breaking something to a hard, young man like the one they saw. The police asked to enter. Darrel nodded, and held the door open. "If you're looking for my father, he's not here. I don't know where they are right now," His words drifted off, slowly. Truth be told, Darrel was worried for his parents. He didn't know where they were. An image, the mostly correct image, slipped into his mind. His face turned a dangerous, pale color as he thought of what would become of him.

He could almost imagine it. As it was, he had no other family members. Thanksgiving, Christmas, they would be spent alone. Maybe Two-Bit, one of his friends, would be with him. Dallas Winston was someone he just couldn't count on. Gone, it's what they all were. He didn't ask it straight up, though. Dallas could've gotten into trouble. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Mr. Curtis, when did you last see your parents?" Darrel cringed inside, this had just confirmed what he'd suspected.

"They left around seven o' clock with my brothers and their friends and our dog," His words drifted off as he drew in a breath, holding his air.

The larger policeman nodded to the shorter one. "Are these your parents?" Darry stared at the pictures. One was a picture of his beautiful, golden mother. The other looked like a picture of himself, you wouldn't be ale to tell the difference if is weren't for the distinct eye color.

He gulped. "Yes, sir,"

"We received a call. At the scene, these two were confirmed as the victims. They are at the hospital right now."

Darrel stood in disbelief. "What about my brothers and my friends? And the dog?"

"We didn't see anyone besides these two." Darrel nodded and gave his thanks, heading for the door. He knew exactly where he was going.

**End of chapter 2. **

**Why am I writing this through someone else's perspective? Because an original character is easier to write through. And why did I choose this part of the story? Becasue I've wondered about how their parents died and wanted to make up my own part of the story. So, there you have it. Just some answers to questions that weren't asked. **


	3. Connection

**Jeez, it's the 26th and I'm just now starting on this chapter. Thanks to the reviewers! My mom drilled the thought of me never having more than two reviews into my brain. So when I got the third review from Lyla Rush I practically screamed with joy and rubbed it in my mom's face. Then I was grounded. Tip: Don't rub stuff in people's faces.**

**This is kind of fictional because I don't know what kind of questions they'd ask, but I made my little fantasy world and this is what came out. I hope it sounds realistic enough.**

**I'm also looking for a beta-reader. Someone to help find spelling and grammar mistakes, maybe help the story a little. So if you are one or know one, please tell me. I'd appreciate it greatly. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders**

I could hear some of the conversation that Soda and the social worker shared. Mostly Soda, he's way too loud. "Oh, yes, ma'am!" "He's . . . and the best. . ." "Oh, sort of," "Well, I do plan on . . ." "We all . . ." It was _killing_ me, not knowing exactly what was going on, but hearing bits and pieces of what could be turned into anything.

Ponyboy was next, and I couldn't hear anything. He was too quiet. Soda sat beside me, telling me it was going to be okay. That life goes on. Life goes on, whether we want it to or not, I thought. Pony didn't take too long, but he did take longer than Sodapop. I wondered if she was going to keep me even longer, maybe she's just going to take me now. She made Pony sign papers or something! Made him do it so she could take him away forever.

I daydream too much.

"Hello, Nick, how are you?" She gave a small smile, and I grinned back. Out of courtesy, of course, inside I could feel the anger. She's going to take me away . . .

"Just fine, thanks. You, Mrs. Lashley?" I wanted to keep a level of small-talk, like the conversations you have with the team you just competed against just before you turn to go back to your friends, but that was not going to happen.

"Good, good. Now, about your brothers. Do you have a good relationship with them?"

"Yes, ma'am. We get along good." I could feel my smile leave my lips unintentionally as she asked questions.

"That's nice. Do you have any special bond between your brothers? Someone you like more than the others, someone you like less, perhaps?"

"Well," I started to say something about the little arguments Darry and I have when I realized, very quickly, that we were bickering over the smallest things. Age difference? "Ponyboy and I are twins. We kind of, have this special bond." I saw her write something down. I swear, if she was writing something like, 'Twins go in the same boys' home' I was going to lose it.

"Ah, no one mentioned that. You know, I was a twin myself." I saw her smile grimly. Wait a minute . . .

"Was?" I asked.

"We split up. Said we had too many arguments, but all I can remember are the good things." She was smiling now. I knew someone with Lashley as their last name, but I can't remember who.

"Oh, that's too bad. I don't know what I would do if I was seperated from any of my brothers." And it was the truth, I don't know what I'd do.

The rest of the questions were, pretty much, what you'd expect. She asked if I was happy with my home life. if I thought Darry was fit to take care of me. She eventually told me I could go. Just before she asked me the last question, of course.

"Wait a minute, Nick. I still have one more question."

"Yes, Mrs. Lashley?" I licked my lips nervously. I hope it wasn't anything like-

"What are your thoughts on Sodapop dropping out of school?"

-that.

"Well, he's probably gonna ask for a full-time shift at the DX, where he works right now." Mrs. Lashley nodded, taking in what I was saying. I guess I could tell her. No. No, I won't. "Mom would say he made the right choice. I agree." I said, but inside I was thinking something else.

I agree with my dad.

Just one more thing I have in common with Darry, one less thing to argue over.

**Please review. I promise not to rub it in my mom's face again, so I'll update sooner. **


	4. Flashback

**Because I think these chapters or too short, I'll try to make longer chapters. Try is the key word here. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders**

After the social worker left we had nothing to do. We had already cleaned the house. That wouldn't work for Darry, though. There's _always_ something to do. He grabbed his keys and told us he'd be back in a bit.

Two-bit and Steve came over a few minutes after Darry drove off. Steve sat on the couch with Soda and they just sat there. I've never seen them do it before; it was sort of weird.

Two-bit ran into the kitchen with Pony and me. He swung open the fridge and grabbed a beer. "Hey, Two-bit, I didn't know you stored your beer over here." I told him.

"Nah," he said, "This ain't mine. It's Steve's."

"Steve?" Soda said from the couch. "Why'd you put it over here?"

"Just 'cause. Just don't tell my dad, alright? He's always gettin' on my case." Steve set his feet on the coffee and stuck a cancer stick in his mouth. Steve don't smoke often, but he smokes a good bit so I didn't say anything. I've never had any arguments with Mom or Dad, but I guess some people do. Sad.

"Yeah, okay,"

Dallas and Johnny bursted through the door. Dallas flipped away his cigarette and promptly sat on the couch. Johnny sat on the arm rest and stared at the blank t.v.

I studied Dallas from the kitchen doorway. He was talking with Two-bit and Steve about last night. Buck Merril. Poker game. Chick. Car. Drag race. Blonde. Shut up, Two-bit. Five bucks. Beer. Drunk. New guy. Switchblade. Hitch-hiker. Fight. Five more bucks. Beer. Even more drunk. Caught by police. Recognize. Gave 'em five bucks. Off the hook.

It seemed funny to me how different our thoughts were. My last night would've been something like this. Birthday. Cake. Mom. Dad. New dog. Darry in charge. Hour later, fuzz show up. Dallas.

Dallas.

He said something to me. He knows how I feel, but why? How? When? I remember the first time I met Dallas. He was thirteen years old, and I was only nine. Five years ago from today, actually.

Soda, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy and I were walking to the lot. When we got there we couldn't find the football. We looked in bushes, behind trees, Soda even thought about looking in the mud puddles. Steve told him that our mom would kill him if he got that dirty. I was looking near the sidewalk with Johnny and Pony when we hear footsteps, fast footsteps. If you listened closely, you could tell the shoes-or feet-were wet, soggy. A small figure appeared. It's head resembled the pure, white sand you see on some beaches. As it came closer, the boy's figure turned red. He looked like he was bathed in dirt and dust. The kind of dirt Momma warned me not to play in, she called it red dirt.

Two raindrops formed on his head. His eyes were a blazing, ice-cold blue. He ran straight into Johnny. "Woah, kid! Git outta my way! Where am I, anyway?"

"Tulsa, Oklahoma," Johnny replied softly. His voice sounded bittersweet, trying to stick up for himself, but the shy guy deep down was slowly coming out around this tough hood.

"I guess that's far enough." The boy said as he sat down in the grass. He pulled something out from beside him. "Hey, you boys want a football? Found one."

"Thanks," I said, grabbing it from his arms.

"Just hold on there. If you want it back, you gotta beat me. How 'bout I take on you guys and some of your little friends?"

Johnny and I looked at each other and grinned. I knew what he was thinking, I was thinking the same thing: Wait 'til he sees Darry! "Deal," we all said.

The boy laughed in our faces. "Say, kids, what are ya'll's names? I'm Dallas Winston, but everyone calls me Dally. Came down from New York. I was arrested up in Ohio before I went up there. Spent three years there. Thirteen now." He was still panting from his run, I figured he hitched a ride and jumped off, but he was grinning.

"You were arrested when you were _ten?"_ Pony said after putting the pieces together.

"Sure was. Damn proud of it, too. That'll teach my dad to mess with Momma. Can you believe it? Came home one day an' there he was, slapping at her like some bitch would. I called the cops and start attackin' my ol' man. Found a liquor bottle and smash it on his back. I'm beatin' 'im, all right, when the boys in blue show up. I broke out with a little help and ran to New York. All thanks to a pack a cigarettes. Some trade, right?"

"Yeah," Pony said, "Some trade,"

I was snapped out of my flashback with one thought.

Mom.

**I'm sorry. I like cliffhangers. The more you have, the more tension there is. If you can see, that's what I'm doing. Look out for the little problems, they'll turn into something more. Expect the unexpected. No long chapters, I'll try to update soon.**


	5. Life or Death

**Current song(s) stuck in my head: Hey, Soul Sister by Train and Rolling in the Deep by Adele.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders (Seriously, do I have to do this every time?)**

Mom.

Dallas had a mom. _I_ had a mom, too, but now they're both dead. He has a connection with me. So that's what he meant. I've never seen Dallas mention his parents, except then. I only know his mom's dead because I caught him mumbling something about it in his sleep. I bet Dally loved his mom, too, even though he won't admit it. He might admit it, when no one else is around. I know I loved Mom, she was sweet and kind, and she loved me. She loved everyone. I think that's why everyone loved her.

Mom.

Dad.

Dallas had a dad, but his dad was nothing like mine. His dad was a drunk, a no-good, intoxicated drunk who smoked and fought and, to put it nicely, _cheated_ on his wife. I bet Dallas was too young to understand what was really going on then. His dad beat his mom, and Dallas saw it. He called the cops and grabbed a bottle. I can only imagine the anger Dallas felt against his dad as he raised the broken bottle and took a hard swing. That's where it all started.

I was finally snapped awake from my thinking. "Ya'll wanna come with us?" Two-bit said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Sure," Johnny said. Well, if Johnny was saying yes, then I can go, too. "Yeah, we'll come. Right, Pony?" I said.

"No thanks. I'm gonna stay here." Pony said.

"Suit yourself. Where we goin'?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Come on!" Soda practically screamed. He grabbed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, running out the door and doing a back-flip off the stairs. Steve did the same thing, and Two-bit walked down the stairs on his hands. I bet they were gonna get caught by the police again. I did do a front-flip off the stairs, though. Hey, it's fun.

We were all walking to lord only knows where when a red mustang starts trailing us. I could feel my hands getting sweaty, but I didn't feel so bad because I had the gang with me. They're all pretty good fighters, from what I've heard. Even Johnny, but I've never seen him put up a fight against his ol' man. I pulled out a cigarette after Dally did, and stuck it in my mouth. I shoved my hands in my pockets and braced myself. Greasers sure can fake tough.

The gang finally slowed their walking to a stop, and the Socs slowly slid out of a car. The four reminded me of a slinky snake. All tuff looking 'cause of their rings, like a snake and it's scales. Hatred and anger filled my body as they walked towards Soda. I nearly smiled; those stupid snakes were jelous!

"Well, well," The tuffest-looking Soc said, "Look what we've got here boys. It's the pretty greaseball who's stealin' our girls!" They laughed and I could hear two of the snakes hiss violently and cruelly into Soda's ear. Soda looked at me, pure horror in his eyes. It wasn't on his face, though. He dodged under the Socs' arms and took a dead run for the open road. "Get him!" The leader screamed.

To my surprise, they didn't go for Soda, but turned straight to me.

I broke into a dead run, and got pretty far until the small, wiry Soc caught up to me. He grabbed my neck, treating me like a snake instead of himself. I couldn't kick my head back, his two thumbs pressed on the back of my forehead. I couldn't jerk forward, his nails tightened with every move I made, threatening to pop my veins. So I had to content myself with breathing in a deep gasp before screaming. It was my only hope.

The other Socs and my gang were in a race. Who will win? What will they win? I can't answer either one, because the prize depends on who wins. I was rooting for my gang.

Litterally on my life.

**Dun, dun, DUN! I will update soon, promise! Thanks for reading, please leave a review. I'd appreciate it.**

**Current song(s) stuck in my head: Hero by Skillet.**


	6. Deal?

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Thank you to those that reviewed, favorited, etc. **

**Oh, by the way, I've actually been choked to near-death before. Twice, actually. It was really hard to write it down, but I did it. I can almost feel the grubby little hands tightening around my neck. Let's just say I don't get along with all my cousins.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders**

**Claimer: I own Nicholas, Snake-boy, and Monkey-Soc. (Those are only nicknames, for the record.)**

"Stay still, grease!" Snake-boy hissed. I didn't, though, not entirely. My fingers pricked his hands, which were tightening around my neck. Every second ticked by slower. My vision went blurrier as time slipped by. Ever so slowly. My vision eventually went black. Then electrified dots filled the blackness, and as more grew around the black, my eyes started to function. Each good-sized collection of dots made a picture, until the gang was finally staring at me. I sucked in a gasp of life.

That's when I realized the gang was still running, the race was still on, the prize was still unknown, and my life was still at stake.

I thought of all of that as my legs crumpled to the ground. Gravity has no mercy, and it was proving its point using me. Life has no mercy, too. They were teaming up on me, trying to break me as one of Snake-boy's friends reached me. I supported myself with my hands and legs, breathing in and out as Snake-boy and his small, brown-haired friend teased me.

"C'mon, grease! Can't ch'ya breathe, greaser!"

"Get up, greaser! C'mon, get up!"

Gasping in air, my weak body stood up. I was coughing and choking without them doing anything to me. Monkey-Soc, the brown-haired boy, picked me up and held me against the chain-link fence to the back of us. His hands pressed against my neck, causing me to urge to cough and just breathe. Snake-boy punched me in my right eye. I gasped in pain, the terror of what these two could do to me taking over.

Johnny reached me, though.

He shoved Snake-boy down. Johnny tried to do the same to Monkey-Soc, but that boy could put up a fight. He tightened his grip on me and the fence, mostly me. So Johnny grabbed Monkey-Soc's fingers from my neck, and ripped them off. He didn't mean to, but Johnny accidentally pushed down on my neck before tearing the fingers free. I gasped each time.

I never thought five could be such a big number.

I heard more footsteps come my way. The rest of the snakes filled in, grabbing Johnny and me. We were on the ground when something in the grass caught my eye. It was smooth and long, with a black handle. It looked like a . . .

Switchblade.

That was it! This is the way I'm going to get out of here. A switchblade, thank the Lord for 'em. I almost smiled, but I didn't. They'd notice. I looked over at Johnny who was on the side the switch was on. I let my head barely move to the right, over and over. Then I looked at the sky like nothing happened.

Please, Johnny. Please get it.

Johnny looked at the sky; I could tell he didn't want to look at the two Socs who were holding him down. They were on each side of us, saying horrible things I'm not going to write down for the life of me. Johnny reached his head to the side, and his eyes brightened. He looked at the sky again, as if all hope were gone, but I could tell he knew what I meant. In a flash he upped and grabbed the switchblade, holding it to Snake-boy's neck.

"You'd best watch it," he said in a low, intimidating voice. "Let us go before somethin' happens. We all know I'll do it."

Snake-boy simpily smiled. "Okay, grease. We'll let you go."

Johnny didn't believe him. I didn't either. He kept a glare towards Snake-boy as he said, "Go on, Nicholas. I'll take 'im."

I pressed my hands on the ground, slowly pushing myself forward. The Socs didn't object; they rose quickly and watched me, but as I turned to leave, the gang stood there.

"Nick, you okay?" Steve asked me in a whisper.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

Johnny and the Soc kept a long glare towards each other. It was intimidating. I was sweating and sticky and nervous from head to toe. The Socs looked, well, it was hard to describe. They all had a sickly sweet grin on their strangely sweetened faces. My gang faked tough. The Socs were probably faking whatever emotion they were doing, too. It's hard to fake. I learned that real quick, but I think I did a pretty good job after one Soc turned away from me.

"All right, kid. Tell you what. I'll let all you go as long as you an' me have it out sometime. Don't know when. I'll let you know. Deal?"

Johnny looked at the guy for a while. Just a sick expression that I knew he wasn't putting on for a show. He stared at Snake-boy with a death glare, so intense I thought he was actually going to kill him. Johnny's eyes shot toward us. Sympathy and sorry were hidden deep within the glance, but I could see it with no trouble. I knew exactly what he was going to say.

"No deal."

**I think this turned out pretty good. Sorry, again, that I haven't updated in forever. I had a science project that I just started, a science test, reading test, reading Jack-Daw, reading whatever-you-wanna-call-it project. So, school. That's the best way I can put it.**

**Any types of review are appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


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